Flawlessly Broken (Broken #2)

by Anna Paige

  He stood and pulled me along with him, forcing me from my warm cocoon and into the real world. I tossed on his soft, cotton t-shirt and followed him down the hall. He motioned for me to stand aside while he moved around the kitchen, totally at home in my space. I liked the hell out of it. There was something to be said for a man who could brew a good pot of java.

  My mouth practically watered at the thought of my morning brew. And the delicious half-naked man standing in my apartment was pretty freaking mouth-watering, too. Those low-slung jeans and his messy post-sex hair would have melted my panties... if I’d been wearing any. He looked up and waggled his brows, presenting the bag of dark Italian roast seductively in a display that was meant to be funny but totally turned me on. Hot coffee and a hotter guy?

  Was there any other way to start the day?

  Talia

  AFTER REACHING THE required blood-to-caffeine ratio for cohesive thought, we decided that continuing to ‘play it safe’ was the way to go—regardless of how amazing it had felt without a barrier between us. We couldn’t let one slip-up evolve into a risky habit.

  Being a responsible adult was really starting to piss me off.

  We were sitting in the living room a while later when I noticed a small blue gift bag on the kitchen counter and asked where it came from.

  Spencer glanced at it absently and returned his gaze to me, resuming his slow perusal of my face, my throat, my chest... he’d been doing it for a while, and it was distracting. The TV was on, playing softly and basically unnoticed in the background. The morning news show had been forgotten ages ago. One little movement on my part a few minutes before had derailed his train of thought, stopping his voice mid-sentence as he commented on a news story.

  All I’d done was lean forward to put my empty mug on the coffee table, which caused my t-shirt to creep up and reveal the bare flesh beneath. That was all it took, apparently. He’d been studying me ever since with a quiet intensity that made my pulse race. The predatory stare told me exactly what was about to happen and I was deliciously aroused at the thought, even as I fought the urge to run away so he could give chase.

  I’d been looking around with thoughts of how hot it would be to let him stalk me around the apartment when the small blue gift bag caught my eye.

  When he didn’t immediately answer, I raised a brow and flicked my tongue across my bottom lip, teasing. “How can I concentrate on that hungry look you’re giving me when I’m sitting here wondering what’s in that bag?”

  “I can make you forget the bag, baby. I can make you forget what year it is.” His low growl made my insides clench. So freaking sexy.

  I changed tactics and gave him a pouty look, complete with puppy-dog eyes and a pitiful head tilt. “But... but...”

  He blew out a big breath and scrubbed a hand over his face, effectively removing that predatory stare and replacing it with one of patient resignation. “Fine. But this hard-on is not so easily distracted. A quick conversation about the gift bag,” he stood and retrieved it before sitting back down beside me on the couch, plopping it into my lap, “and then I’m going to fuck that little pout right out of your arsenal. It’s an underhanded trick and this will be the last time you use it if I have to fuck you half to death to assure your compliance. Understood?”

  I nodded and clenched my thighs together, trying to quell the surge of arousal at his words. His face was impassive as I removed the tissue paper from the bag and pulled out what appeared to be tickets and brochures. Madame Tussuad’s? I gave him a questioning look, half smiling at how cute the idea was. “You want to go to the wax museum?”

  He shook his head. “No questions. Just hang onto those and wait for the rest of the gifts—one new gift each day this week—and I’ll explain on Saturday morning. Okay?” The mischievous gleam in his eye was worrisome and sexy at the same time.

  “You’re giving me something every day? Why?” I could tell I was missing something, but the smirk on his face meant he wasn’t going to be any help. Turd.

  “Like I said,” He placed the tickets back in the bag and set it aside. “No questions. I’ve got a lot planned for this week and I won’t have you ruining the surprise.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on my lips. “The only thing I can tell you is that this week is the buildup and next week is the payoff. You’ll need to take next week off from the restaurant, which I know you won’t like, but I promise you it will be worth it.” He kissed my jaw, working his way down my neck to that spot near my shoulder that made me melt into a puddle. “Can you do that, Talia? Can you trust me enough to make that happen?”

  I couldn’t think, couldn’t string together the words to tell him what he wanted to know, so I nodded against his head and let out a soft groan of pleasure. He wasn’t fighting fair. If I couldn’t pout, he shouldn’t be able to use my erogenous zones against me. As long as he was trailing his tongue over that spot on my neck, I’d agree to absolutely anything.

  So not fair.

  And I wasn’t about to complain.

  He pulled a bit of my skin between his teeth and nipped softly. “Is your curiosity about the gifts satisfied enough for now? I really want to put you up on that counter and bury my face in your sweet pussy.”

  Gifts? What gifts?

  Before I had a chance to answer, I was swept into his arms as he marched us off toward the kitchen.

  Guess the man was ready for breakfast.

  TRUE TO HIS word, Spencer surprised me with a new gift each day. Reservations for expensive restaurants—a week in advance—, tickets for various shows at places like the Kennedy Center, special program tickets for the Museum of Natural History and the Smithsonian, tickets for a Washington Nationals game... each day a new adventure was revealed. And each day I got more and more puzzled by the whole thing.

  What was most confusing was that each one of those tiny, blue gift bags had tickets for three, not two.

  And the stubborn ass man wouldn’t give me even one clue as to what he was plotting. Not planning, noooo. He was having way too much fun with this. This was plotting.

  And I had a sneaking suspicion that he had an accomplice. Or two? I wasn’t sure.

  He’d insisted on booking and using a room at the Hilton, to keep his work stuff separate. I thought he was full of shit and was using that as a place to hide out while he worked on his multiple acts of sneakery.

  Yes, the restaurant in the lobby was a good meeting place for business reasons and made sense but I wasn’t buying it as a viable reason for him to spend all that money. He didn’t want me catching wind of anything he was working on with Clay. And keeping me in the dark as far as my own surprise was also important to him. I knew how important it was because car sex hadn’t even persuaded him to spill it—car sex while traveling at well above the posted speed limit, I might add.

  It had been the single most reckless thing I’d ever done but holy shit was it fun.

  And still, he wouldn’t budge.

  It was only Wednesday, and I was already going crazy trying to figure it out. Which he found amusing as hell.

  Maybe tonight I would break out the pouty face again if for no other reason than it would guarantee a good hard romp.

  It occurred to me that maybe he was turning me into a nympho but I couldn’t help wanting him. He was consuming, addictive, amazing. And not just in bed. He was warm and thoughtful when I needed comfort, unwavering and assertive when showing his affection, relentless and insatiable when we were skin to skin.

  I was more in love with him than I ever thought possible.

  And every day it became more and more apparent that I had to let him go.

  I’d watched him all week and it tore at my heart every time we were out someplace and he saw a baby or small child. He went out of his way to smile and wave, made silly faces at babies in strollers on the street, chatted up young parents in the supermarket. He couldn’t help himself.

  He was a father waiting for his child.

  And I was a mother wh
o could never take that chance again.

  I lay in bed at night and listened to his soft breathing, wondering how I could be so selfish as to let him fall in love with me, knowing what I knew about his past.

  Ivey had lied about wanting children, gotten his hopes up and then dashed his dreams to pieces with her deception. I may not have lied about my intentions, but I hadn’t exactly made them clear either. I’d been too swept up in the passion and excitement of it all to realize that I was setting him up for another heartbreak.

  How could I do that? After all I’d been through, how could I be so callous with someone’s feelings? I knew from day one what he wanted out of his life, what his dreams were, and I couldn’t let him waste his time and affections on another dead end. It wasn’t right.

  And I was such a coward that I let it go on, every day I decided it was the day, that I’d end it before it went on any further. And every day I looked into his ebony eyes full of longing and lust and adoration, and I buckled. I wanted him and I couldn’t stop being selfish long enough to do what needed to be done.

  Goddammit, where was Ali when I needed her? She of all people would give me the kick in the ass I needed. She would know how to end this with as little hurt as possible because she had always been better at being brave than I was.

  I missed my friend.

  So much so that I called her the moment Spencer left for the Hilton to prepare for a lunch meeting.

  Her voice was full of concern when she answered, because we generally texted during business hours and only spoke in the evenings after we were both done with work. “Talia? Hey, sweetie. What’s wrong?”

  That was all I needed to fall the hell apart. I opened my mouth to answer and nothing came out but a sob.

  “Whoa... what the hell?” Ali muttered more to herself than to me. “You don’t do the boo-hooing thing... do I need to come home? Are you okay?” All I could do was blubber and sniffle like an idiot, so she raised her voice to be heard. “You have to tell me what’s wrong or I’m hanging up and jumping in my Jeep right fucking now.”

  She meant it. I could hear the sound of her footfalls, pounding the sidewalk like she was headed off to war. I had to stop this shit before she got herself in trouble with the park owners. “No, don’t come,” I got out between shuddering breaths. “I’m being stupid. I don’t know what to do. I love him but I can’t be what he needs and he loves me and it’s not fair to him and I can’t find a way to let him go and I missed you and you asked what was wrong and I lost my shit but please don’t come home and get in trouble because I’m hurting enough people as it is.” It all came out in a shrill scream and when it was over all I heard was dead air. “Ali?”

  I heard a soft shuffling, probably her switching ears after I practically melted the first one off. Another moment of silence and then she calmly said, “Holy. Fucking. Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  She blew out a breath, processing everything in my harried admission before asking, “It’s Spencer, isn’t it?”

  How the hell? I’d been very careful not to mention him when we talked. “What makes you say that?” Riiight... that voice was convincing. I rolled my eyes at my own stupidity. She was my best friend. There was no way she wouldn’t catch that line of bullshit.

  There was humor in her voice when she spoke. “Because he enlisted me in a plot to do something really amazing for you and swore to me it was something that he’d thought of the one time he went to your apartment to check on you. Apparently, you both think I’m fucking stupid but I’ll let that slide for now.” She paused and dropped her voice. “Why can’t you be what he needs, sweetie? Did he tell you that? Because that doesn’t sound like Spencer.”

  I shook my head, not that she could see it, and reached for the box of tissues on the end table dabbing at my wet cheeks. “No, of course not. He would never.”

  “Did he tell you he loves you?” She prodded gently.

  “Yes.”

  “And do you love him?”

  “So much it hurts,” I admitted, my voice shaking with the force of my love for him.

  She took in a deep breath. “Then that’s all that matters. You can work through everything else as long as you have that. I mean, look at Clay and I. Do you think it’s always been easy? You know what we went through, but we’re still here working on it and planning our future because that’s what we are meant to do. All the rest doesn’t matter. It will be the same for you and Spencer.”

  “No, it won’t. The future he wants can’t include me.”

  “Why? What is this deal breaker that has you tied in knots?”

  “He wants kids.” I said simply, pursing my lips knowingly as I listened to the soft hiss of the open line. She knew what that meant.

  “Fuck.”

  “Exactly. His first marriage broke up partially because he wanted kids and she didn’t. He still wants them, I know he does. And you know I can’t do that, Ali. Not again.” She was the one person who I knew would back me on this.

  Her voice was full of empathy when she said, “No, you won’t do that. There’s a difference. And I thought you and I had talked about this. Milly’s cancer wasn’t your fault. You have to stop blaming yourself.” I was still shaking my head in awe of her response when she paused and I heard a heavy swallow. She was the only one who called Amelia ‘Milly’ and got away with it, my daughter—who hated nicknames—adored her that much. I had really thought that Ali of all people would support my decision not to have any future children. Apparently not, judging by what she was saying. “You were there for her through everything. You never left her side, not once, not even when you were shattering into a million pieces. And I know you would have gladly taken her place, died a thousand deaths to spare her a moment of pain. You were and will always be a good mom. You didn’t do anything wrong and you didn’t cause what happened to Milly. Please don’t let misplaced guilt rob you of having the amazing life you deserve. Please, Talia, let him in. Tell him what’s bothering you. I know Spencer. He’s a good man and he may surprise you.” She sniffed softly, clearly crying now. “Or you may just surprise yourself. Give Spencer—and yourself—that chance.”

  God, I wanted to believe that Spencer would understand, and maybe he would, but could I ask him to give up his dreams just to be with me? How was that fair to him? My voice was filled with defeat and a heavy dose of my long-time companion—grief—when I told Ali, “We’ll see.” It was my go-to answer when I didn’t want to argue.

  Or when my daughter asked if she could go outside later and I knew damn well that the doctors wouldn’t let her. Her tiny body was too weak from her treatments and all she’d wanted was to go outside and watch the butterflies. Instead of explaining why she couldn’t go, or better yet standing up to the doctors until they cleared my baby girl for a ten minute venture outdoors, I’d patted her little hand and smiled my best placating smile telling her ‘we’ll see’ and dying inside when she gave me that hopeful grin and returned to her coloring book to pick out and color every butterfly in it yellow.

  I was a coward back then and I was going to be a coward again, no matter how many pep talks Ali threw at me, because I just couldn’t take Spencer’s future away from him like I’d taken away Amelia’s. I wouldn’t.

  Ali was obviously frustrated when she huffed. “Yeah, right. I know you better than that.”

  I didn’t know what to say so I said nothing, choosing instead to sit there picking at the damp tissue I’d used to wipe my face, turning it into a pile of confetti.

  “Fine, I can see that you’re not listening to me right now but at least don’t make any decisions yet. Can you promise me that much? Give me the weekend to make you see the light and, if you still aren’t swayed by Monday, I won’t stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”

  That last shot would have normally gotten a rise out of me but I was too busy frowning at the rest of the statement. “The weekend? What are you talking about? Do I have an endless string of texts in m
y future?” Not that it would be much of a bother, Spencer was pretty booked all weekend with his and Clay’s secret project so it wasn’t like I would be busy tearing up the sheets, but still... Ali was usually busy seven days a week.

  She chuckled in my ear, her smile practically visible through the line. “Hardly. How are we supposed to have a girl’s night via text? I was thinking we’d grab dinner and check out that new club a couple blocks from the apartment. Think Gina will want to join us?”

  Gina? Club? What the hell was she talking about? “Ali, you need to start making sense here because I’m sporting a post-breakdown brain-ache and I don’t have the capacity to process a thing you just said. I thought you had to work straight through until the week before the Denson wedding.” I put a hand to my head, tiny bits of tissue coming loose from my palm and floating in the air like enormous dust motes.

  “That’s still true, mostly. Apparently Clay and I really are the perfect team. We were making so much progress so fast that we ended up too far ahead of schedule and now we have to wait for the final pieces of the coaster to be placed before we can resume work. Safety guidelines. We can’t work under the crane while it’s operating and that location is the only one left to tackle, so we basically have the next five days off. Well, Friday through Monday anyway. Still some small shit we can put finishing touches on tomorrow and then we’re free until Tuesday.” She put so much emphasis on the word free I totally pictured her doing a little hop of joy. Not that she didn’t love her work, she thrived on it, but she also got homesick after a while and I knew she was in desperate need of some down time.